


Man's Best Friend

by PickledDeath



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3219425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickledDeath/pseuds/PickledDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late one night, Red Hood gets the aid of an unusual k9 sidekick. Against his better judgement, he takes said sidekick home and becomes more attached than he intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Man's Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [varevare (varebanos)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/varebanos/gifts).



> This was originally written for the BatFam X-Mass Exchange, but I didn't get it done in time.

The tattooed skinhead’s bald cranium smacked into the asphalt with the satisfying sound of a wet melon hitting pavement. His body went limp as his head connected with the ground. Jason couldn’t help but think how satisfying the sound was as he looked at the limp form of the man below him. The violent vigilante could feel his skin stretching as his grin grew beneath his helmet. The skinhead’s two buddies crowded in around their unconscious friend, undeterred by his violent knockout.

“Now I finally know what it’s like to be the most popular girl at the prom,” Jason laughed, his voice distorted and disguised by the voice modifier in his helmet.

The two remaining thugs came at him at the same time, one coming in low and the other high. Jason clocked the one swinging for his face with a sharp left hook, his superior reach allowing him to hit him before he could swing at Jason. Unfortunately, t he didn’t have time to stop the other guy from diving at his legs before he knocked him to the ground.

Jason’s head bounced off the asphalt with a metallic clang. The remaining thug jumped on and struggled to grapple with his masked assailant, but Jason had the overwhelming advantage in upper body strength. Jason was still struggling with the thug on top of him when he saw the man he had just punched struggle to his feet and stumble toward them.

The man moved toward Jason and his friend on unsteady feet, blood splattered and sticking to the broken skin on the back of his head. As he came within a few feet of Jason still struggling with the other thug, the man lunged for them only to fall back with an undignified yelp.

“What the -” the man on top of Jason started to say, turning to look at where his friend was screaming and yelling frantically while a large dark growling mass tugged him backward by a grip on the back of his jacket. Jason didn’t let the man say anything else, connecting his elbow sharply with the man’s mouth.

He fell backward clutching his split lip with a curse and Jason was on him like black on asphalt.

When he was sure that the man was down for the count (and possibly in need of some dental reconstruction surgery) he turned back to deal with the other man.

He was still struggling with his quadrupedal attacker who now had the seat of the man’s pants held firmly in its jaws. It was growling and would occasionally shake its head. The man was bellowing and screaming in a panic.

“Hey!” Jason said sharply, not even sure himself if he was saying it to the creature or to the man.

It was the creature who heeded him, releasing the man’s pants and with a small whine and cocking its head in Jason’s direction. As soon as the man was free, he ran full tilt out of the alley, screaming and holding his pants up as he fled.

“Hey!” Jason called louder “You can take your friend!”

The man didn’t seem to hear him and continued to run down the street and toward the bay.

Jason sighed and gave the unconscious man at his feet a half hearted kick. As he did so, his rescuer whined quietly again and stepped closer to Jason and into the faint light falling from a nearby street light.

The creature turned out to be a large, very large (super large) dog. The dog was obviously a great dane, tall and lanky with hanging jowls and soulful eyes. Its coat was an even shiny gray, its mouth open and tongue hanging out as it panted excitedly, its long thin tail wagging happily behind it. It was missing a collar, but it was clearly well fed and well taken care of.

Jason and the dog regarded one another for a long moment in the silent alleyway, Gotham rumbling along around them.

“What do you want, a medal?” Jason snapped at the dog, throwing his arms out wide and leaning forward.

The dog wined briefly again, tilting its head to one side and flattening its ears to its head. Jason put his hands on his hips and stared at the dog cooly, though his expression hidden under his helmet.

The huge great dane whined a few more times, becoming more excited the longer that Jason went without saying anything or moving. The dog was soon wagging its tail so enthusiastically that its whole rump was waving rhythmically from side to side.

Finally, the excitement was too much and the dog ran the short length toward Jason and jumped, pressing its two front paws against Jason’s chest. Jason gave a small ‘Oomph!’ as the dog knocked the wind out of him and nearly tumbled him over. 

The dog barked enthusiastically at Jason’s face.

Jason gently took the dog’s huge front paws in his hands and put him back down on all four paws.

“Okay, I am not yet lame enough to have a k9 sidekick. You need to go home, dog,” Jason grunted as he fended off another attack, the great dane jumping even higher and trying to settle his paws on Jason’s shoulders. Jason was a little unnerved at the fact that he could easily reach them.

Jason again carefully placed the dog back down onto all four feet. “Seriously,” he said, bending down over the large dog. “You need to go home.”

Crossing his arms over his broad chest, the leather of his red jacket creaking slightly, Jason again regarded the dog impassively, waiting impatiently for him to turn tail and run. But, the dog did quite the opposite. It sat its rump down on the pavement in front of him and stared up at Jason expectantly.

The silence drug on and, eventually, Jason reluctantly admitted defeat.

Jason crouched down in front of the dog, sighing metallically behind his mask.The dog immediately stood up and began slathering his tongue all over the front of Jason’s helmet.

“Okay, okay!” Jason said, roughly rubbing his gloved hands over the dog’s slick healthy coat. “I get it. For whatever reason, you’ve easily picked one of the most suspicious guys in Gotham to get attached too. And, you’re obviously someone’s well cared for pet, so I’m not going to just let you sleep out on the streets.”

Standing, Jason put his hands on his hips and looked down at the excited dog. “I can’t say that my house is going to be much better than an alley, but at least it’s something.”

The dog let out a loud deep bark, almost as if he understood Jason and was agreeing with him. Jason smirked behind his helmet before turning around and starting to walk toward his nearest safe house, his new ward lumbering happily at his side.

* * *

Before reaching his hideout, Jason stopped and took a sharp right into a shady space between two buildings. Hiding in the nearby alleyway, Jason had taken off his helmet and stuffed it into a duffel bag he had hidden there previously, along with whatever weaponry that was clearly visible on his person. The dog huffed quietly and sniffed at the bag for a long moment, before looking up at Jason’s now unhidden face and tilting his head curiously.

“I know,” Jason whispered to the dog. “The things we do for our jobs, right?” he laughed hoarsely at his own joke and the dog joined in, huffing out a heavy breath that almost sounded like a chuckle.

The dog and Jason both climbed five flights of stairs before they reached the door to Jason’s safe house. Jason rifled through a large key ring before he found the right one for that particular apartment and turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. He flicked the light switch on as he entered and a naked lightbulb hanging from the ceiling flickered and buzzed before illuminating the small depressing room.

The safe house Jason went to was similar to most of his other safe houses. It was a very small apartment that was paid for in cash by mail every month to a landlord that lived outside of the city. The apartment was a single room that contained no windows and a small kitchen and bathroom that was dingy and falling apart.

The dog bounded in ahead of Jason and immediately started to circle the room, sniffing everything his nose would reach. Jason ignored him, closing the door and locking it three times (doorknob and two deadbolts). He dropped his dufflebag by the door and headed straight for the shower i. His head felt cold, the sweat that had built up under his helmet now drying in the cool night air. It was nearly morning and he had been out since the sun went down. It was mid-winter, so the nights were long and Jason was consequently covered in sweat and grime as well as aches and fatigue.

Jason started to shuck his clothes before he got inside the tiny bathroom which contained a single fluorescent light above the mirror, a small pedestal sink, a toilet, and a shower stall with cracked tiles and mildewy corners. Jason turned the shower’s hot water all the way up and stepped in only once the water started to steam. The shower stall was so small that he almost couldn’t turn around in it, but he didn’t care. The scorching hot water running over his scalp and shoulders felt heavenly enough that he forgot about most everything.

Which included the huge dog that he had brought home with him.

Jason was resting his head against the nasty tile wall in front of him and letting the water rush over his back and shoulders when he felt a cold nose press curiously against his calf.

He yelped indignantly and would have fell over in surprise if he had any room to do so. Instead, he found himself stumbling against the wall of the shower stall. The dog had nudged aside the shower curtain and was blinking up at Jason. He realized belatedly that he must have left the bathroom door open out of habit.

“Get out of here!” Jason snapped, flicking some water at the dog and causing him to jump and quickly back out of the shower. Jason stuck his head out of the shower and looked down at the dog as it shook its head to try and shake off the water. “Peeping Tom,” Jason muttered with a smirk, before ducking back into his shower and its cocoon of hot steam.

Knowing that it wouldn’t be much longer before the dog got brave enough to venture back into the shower, Jason knelt down and grabbed an old cracked bar of soap off the shower floor and started to quickly scrub himself down. It was a rush job and the dog did indeed stick its head into the shower two more times before Jason was done, but he felt much cleaner once he finished.

After Jason was done, he toweled off, grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from a box on the floor and threw them on before collapsing onto the mattress that was lying on the floor. Jason had no way of knowing what time it was due to the lack of windows in the safe house, but he calculated it was probably almost dawn. He could feel sleep stealing over him steadily, dragging his eyelids low and relaxing his usually rigid limbs.

He could feel the dog step up onto the mattress, the weight of the large animal depressing the old mattress. Whining, the dog hesitantly pawed at Jason’s chest.

The weary vigilante cracked an eye up at the large dog.

“What?” he asked impatiently.

The dog whined and pawed his chest again. It was probably just the dog’s low hanging jowls and sad eyes, but he looked like he was trying to plead with Jason.

Knowing that it would be little use to try and ignore the dog, Jason sat up with an unhappy grunt. “What do you want?” Jason asked again, knowing full well that it was a useless endeavor. The dog continued to regard him with a sad expression. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Jason asked. The dog tilted its head curiously to one side. “Food?” Jason asked again, raising an eyebrow. The dog started to wag its tail excitedly and pant.

“Food it is,” Jason sighed, already pessimistic about what he would find in his cupboards.

Standing with a grunt, Jason walked over to his small depressing kitchenette. He knew there would be nothing in the fridge and bypassed it altogether. He didn’t turn the fridge on in any of his apartments to save on electricity. He started rifling through the cupboards, pushing aside cans of dehydrated milk and rusted cans of soup until he finally came upon what he was looking for.

With a heavy heart, Jason pulled a dusty can of spam out of the back of the cupboard. He stood on his toes and looked in the back for another can, but didn’t find any. Sighing, Jason began to pull open the can using the key in one corner.

“Well, dog,” Jason said heavily. “It looks like this is dinner. Hope you don’t mind sharing.”

Using a plastic knife, Jason cut the square of questionable canned meat in half and pushed one half out onto a paper plate. He then sat the plate down in front of the dog and pulled out a plastic fork for himself.

The dog sniffed cautiously at the meat sitting in front of it. It huffed out an unhappy breath before looking up at Jason again beseechingly.

Jason scooped a piece of processed meat onto his fork and popped it into his mouth. It was moist and very salty. He chewed for a second before talking to the dog around the food in his mouth.

“Tough luck, dog. That’s all I have,” he told it.

The dog continued to stare up and watch Jason unenthusiastically chip away at the canned meat in the can before he lowered his large head down to the little square of meat on his plate. He sniffed again before giving the meat a cautious lick.

Whatever he tasted must have been to his liking, because the dog then began to chomp off corners of the meat. After four big bites, the remainder of the spam was gone and the dog was looking up at Jason and licking its chops expectantly.

Jason raised his eyebrows at the dog before smiling down at it, despite himself.

“Here,” Jason said, stooping down and pushing the rest of the spam onto the dog’s plate. Jason had only taken three dainty bites of the stuff, so the piece he gave the dog was almost the same as the first one he had got. “Knock yourself out, buddy,” Jason muttered as he watched the dog chomp away at the second piece of spam as enthusiastically as he had the first.

After the dog was done, Jason picked up the paper plate now covered in spam juice and dog spit, and tossed it in the sink. It would most likely sit there and grow mold until such a time as Jason let the apartment go and found another safe house in the area.

Before returning to bed, Jason pulled a styrofoam bowl out of another cupboard and filled it with water from the tap and sat it down near the door. The dog went over to sniff and then lap at the water eagerly, sending little droplets flying all over the worn and creaking wooden floor around the bowl. After the dog was done, Jason sighed, picked up the now nearly empty bowl and refilled it before replacing it on the floor.

Jason switched off the light before returning to his mattress and pulling the stained and threadbare blankets over him. Ambient heat came into his apartment through the walls from the apartments around him. He relied on that most nights, refusing to turn on the heat in another effort to save money on electricity that could be spent on more important things (guns and medical supplies).

After Jason had settled, he heard the padding of feet on the worn hardwood floors punctuated by a sharp whine in the darkness.

Sighing again, Jason held a hand out toward the source of the crying and bit out a gruff, “Come here.”

Immediately, the feet padded over to him, up onto the mattress and then onto Jason, large paws pressing down on his belly, chest and shoulders before the huge dog settled its mass down on Jason’s chest.

Normally, Jason would have pushed the big dog off, but the heat radiating from its body and through the thin blankets into Jason’s skin far outweighed the uncomfortable compressed feeling of his chest.

“You must be spoiled,” Jason told the dog, moving the great dane so he was less centered on him and more just pressed against him. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” Jason grumbled, pressing his face into the dog’s short smooth coat and enjoying the feeling of warmth and of hot breath snuffling in his hair before exhaustion pulled him down into sleep.

* * *

When Jason woke, it was slowly to a wide flat tongue licking at his face that he couldn’t figure out for an extended moment. When it finally came back to him that he had a dog in his safe house, he realized that he couldn’t afford to lay around enjoying his sleep.

Groaning around all his aches and bruises, Jason pushed himself up and turned on the lights. The safe house was a mess, but that was okay. It was a safe house, it wasn’t a home. Jason didn’t have a home. He just had a job. And, he couldn’t do his job with a pet, so he had to find the dog’s owner.

Jason put on the clothes he had been wearing yesterday (worn black jeans, heavy brown leather boots, stretched out black t-shirt and a lived in red leather jacket). He picked up his duffel bag and started for the door, before he remembered that dogs had to be on leashes according to the law. Jason momentarily cast around the apartment for anything that could be used as a lead, but of course he didn’t have anything like that.

He looked down at the dog and the dog looked back at him, already standing eagerly by the front door. Jason decided that if anyone confronted him about it, he would just tell them that it wasn’t his dog. It was the truth, after all.

Jason and the dog both descended the steps down out of the shady apartment building and down into the mid-afternoon sunshine. It was bright, much brighter than what Jason was used too, even though it was the middle of winter. Jason squinted up at the shining pale blue sky arching above the tops of nearby buildings. Beside him, the dog panted, tasting the air and all the different flavors that saturated it.

“Okay,” Jason said hesitantly. “Let’s go, dog.”

The two of them started off toward midtown, Jason leading and the dog following gamely beside him. Jason didn’t have a leash, but he might as well have. The dog appeared to be well trained. It walked beside him, not ahead of or behind him. Occasionally, the dog would notice something and pause to regard it from afar. But, he would catch up with Jason before he had to so much as slow his stride.

Together, they walked for a good hour (with the dog stopping at a few trees to do his business along the way) before they arrived at their destination. The Gotham SPCA, located on the first floor of a squat plain business plaza. Jason paused outside the building, unsure for a moment. He looked down at the dog and it looked up at him, pressing its shoulder against his thigh as if understanding Jason’s reluctance.

It was nice to have someone around. Jason was so used to being alone in his day to day life, it was like he had forgotten what companionship felt like.

But, this dog had a family. It was big, happy, well fed and well trained. Someone cared a lot about it. Enough to buy it real dog food, not spam. Enough to exercise it, not keep it in a one room windowless apartment. Returning the dog to its owner was the right thing to do.

Taking a deep breath, Jason pushed through both his own reluctance and the front doors, the dog following along beside him.

The procedure from then on was pretty standard. He got some raised eyebrows for walking the dog into the waiting room without so much as a leash. He explained to the lady at the front desk what had happened. Yes, he had found the dog last night down town. No, the dog had no collar. No, he didn’t see anyone else around. Yes, he had kept the dog last night.

The receptionist offered to take him and implied heavily that Jason really didn’t need to stick around and he told her flatly that, no he really did. He didn’t have any intentions of leaving the dog there. If no one came for it, he would take it home and leave a number.

The nice lady in the pink scrubs who was watching the front desk took him and the dog in the back and ran a small scanner between his shoulderblades. It blinked green and gave her all the information she needed. The dog’s owner had already contacted them to report their pet missing and left their contact information.

The vet tech offered to keep the dog until his owners could come to pick him up. Again, Jason declined.

Jason and the dog sat together in the waiting room for about an hour. Jason sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs with his elbows balanced on his knees. The dog laid on the ground between his feet and stared up at Jason periodically before resting its big head on its paws. Occasionally, Jason would reach down and run an absent hand over the dog’s head and shoulders and the dog would huff out an appreciative breath. But, otherwise, the two of them were still and silent.

After a little more than an hour had passed, the doors opened and Jason saw the one man he probably wanted to see the least out of every human being on the planet.

Bruce Wayne stepped into the waiting room looking both posh and imposing. He was wearing a heavy black peacoat with shiny black buttons, pressed black trousers and shining leather shoes. His face was clean shaven and his hair was neatly combed back off of his forehead. His pale blue eyes scanned the room once before landing on Jason. They shared a cold stare mutually before Bruce broke his stare to look down at the dog at Jason’s feet.

“Titus!” a young cultured voice exclaimed from behind Bruce. At the sound of his name, the dog’s head came up in interest. At the sight of his owner, the great dane jumped up from the ground and bounded over to the young boy already running toward him.

Jason had been so busy glaring at Bruce that he hadn’t noticed his son come in behind him. Damian Wayne was a smaller angrier version of Bruce on most days. But, on this particular day, he looked very different. His hair was mussed, his coat was hanging open and his face (which was usually pinched into an unpleasant sneer) was stretched almost to breaking with a wide happy grin.

Damian threw his arms around Titus’ neck and the dog enthusiastically showered Damian’s face and head with slobbery licks, which the boy accepted happily.

“Jason,” Bruce’s strong voice broke Jason out of his thoughts, surprising him into looking back at the older man. Bruce was looking down at Jason with a considering expression and suddenly Jason felt like he was fourteen years old again, withering quietly under that accessing gaze.

Bruce held his hand out to Jason, his hand large and imposing.

Jason swallowed, but did his best to hide it.

“Yeah?” he asked, turning one word into a question with a raised eyebrow and a skeptical frown.

“I assume that you are the one who found Titus,” Bruce said after a moment of staring down at Jason in what Jason thought might have been confusion. “It was very good of you to bring him back. Damian is very fond of him.”

Jason exhaled quietly under his breath. His eyes cut away from Bruce and back to Damian who had begun to compose himself. He was standing now and fastening a black leather collar around the dog’s throat while Titus looked up at his boy and panted, his tail wagging ecstatically. They both looked so happy to be reunited that Jason felt like a real heel for ever feeling like he didn’t want to turn the dog in.

Standing awkwardly, Jason took Bruce’s hand in his own and gave it one solid shake before quickly letting go and rubbing the palm of his hand on his jeans.

“I didn’t know the dog belonged to you,” Jason grumbled, looking away. “So, you know...” he mumbled, not really sure where he was going with this. He hadn’t meant to do anything nice for Bruce or his demon spawn. But, somehow, he had anyway.

“You are the man who found my dog,” a young voice talking with a slight accent said loudly from Bruce’s left. Silently, Damian had come to standing beside his father without Jason noticing. He blamed it on all the ninja training he had heard the youngest Robin had.

“Yep,” Jason said, popping his lips around the p sound and looking down at Damian Wayne with an unimpressed expression.. It was hard to take Damian seriously after Jason seen a large dog slobber all over his face.

Damian sniffed slightly, before holding out his own much smaller hand to Jason. “I owe you a debt, then. Expect it to be repaid.”

Jason hesitantly took the young boy’s hand and winced as he squeezed his hand so tightly that Jason felt his knuckles grind together.

“It’s really okay, kid,” Jason said through his teeth, trying to unobtrusively rub the pain out of his knuckles after pulling back.

“Nonsense,” Damian said with a wave of his hand. “As a reward for finding Titus, you can come over to take him on a walk whenever you’d like.”

Jason raised his eyebrows and his mouth kicked up at the edges despite himself. “That’s a reward?” Jason chuckled.

“Damian,” Bruce said sharply. “I don’t think -”

“It is done,” Damian said solemnly, an end to a conversation if Jason had ever heard one. “Father, shall we go?” Damian asked, though he had already turned on his heel and started toward the door. The dog (Titus) moved along with Damian, but paused before disappearing through the door after him to give one last look to Jason.

Jason gave the dog a little wave and a hesitant smile, urging him to go with his boy. The youngest Robin seemed like he might need a companion even more than Jason, anyway.

Jason turned back to Bruce, who was giving the door an exasperated, but resigned look.

“So...” Jason said slowly, trying to fill the awkward silence left in Damian’s wake. Bruce turned to give Jason another strangely blank accessing look. “Can I really come over and walk your dog?”

Bruce breathed out through his nose and Jason did his best to brace himself for rejection. Instead, he heard, “If Damian says so, then I suppose that’s fine. Titus needs more exercise than he usually gets.”

Jason rocked back on his heels, surprised and doing his best not to show it.

“Thanks,” he croaked.

Bruce nodded brusquely, shifted his feet (an unusual show of emotion), then turned on his heel and followed his son out of the SPCA.

Jason sat heavily back down on his uncomfortable waiting room chair and stared at the place where Titus had been laying a few minutes before. He sat there until the nice vet tech in pink scrubs came over to ask him if he was okay.

He told her he was fine and started the long walk back to his safe house. He made his way across town and back to the Bowery. He walked an hour back to the safe house he had stayed in previously despite there being closer safe houses and a bitter chill in the air.

When he got back to the depressing little apartment, the bowl of water was still sitting by the door and the dirty paper plate was in the sink. Jason dropped his duffle by the door and collapsed face down on his mattress. He buried his face in the blanket and took a deep breath, the smell of warmth and dog still in the sheets.

The burn of loneliness still itched at his edges, but overall Jason felt much better. As if, just a little bit, something was starting to get pulled back together inside of him. Just a little bit, he felt like he might not always be so lonely.


End file.
